


The Incomplete Story of Pastel Boy

by CassielWhorechester



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Angst, Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 05:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4292841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassielWhorechester/pseuds/CassielWhorechester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the incomplete story of a boy a small town had affectionately dubbed pastel boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Incomplete Story of Pastel Boy

The incomplete story of Pastel Boy

 

With him, everything was always some shade of pastel. The cloth covers he used to protect his books, his clothes from his shirt to his shoes, and once he reached middle school even his curly mop of hair was three different pastel shades. This boy seemed to be made entirely out of pastel. Inside and out. Such a stark contrast to his doom and gloom brothers.  
“Can boys even wear pastel? It’s weird.” Was often breathed from person to person when he slouched past. But eventually people got used to it. They began to call him Pastel Boy with a smile instead of a sneer.  
If you were lucky and got to know him you’d find that even his personality was a sort of pastel. All six feet of him seemed to smile and ooze love. He was the kind of boy that’d stop to offer a hug if he thought you needed one.  
It was a shock to the entire student body when one day, his outfit wasn’t pastel. Everything was black. Most of the teachers didn’t seem to notice. Some of them asked about it but missed the way the corners of his eyes didn’t crinkle when he laughed them off. It wasn’t long before his smile was gone and there was an emptiness behind his eyes that left you cold. At first no one could tell why Pastel Boy had gone dark, but soon people began to notice things.  
“Why’s he limping? What happened to his leg?“ He told everyone he fell down the stairs. There are only five steps in his house.  
“Holy shit, did he get into a fight?“ No. Pastel Boy was against violence. He didn’t even like yelling, said his anger was explosive, and that it was genetic.  
“How’d he get that black eye?“ Not by hitting a door knob, that excuse was so over done. Almost as bad as, ‘My dog ate my homework.’  
For months nobody thought to look past the surface. He came to school everyday, got straight B’s, never skipped class and never caused trouble. He was the kid that was always given a ‘perfect attendance’ award. Then one day he didn’t show up. Rumors flew.  
“Maybe he’s sick?“ Everyone know he would have come to school anyways.  
“Do you think he ran away?“ Not likely.  
“He might’ve been kidnapped!“ Also not likely.  
It went from a single day of absence to a week, then a month. He was gone for a month and three weeks before the news came. It was like wild fire the way the news spread. It seemed like everyone had a copy of the local news paper.  
“He did what?“ Go read for yourself. It’s on page three.  
“Oh my god, he was such a good kid…“ You don’t know the half of it.  
“Really? He gave me a hug when I was crying once.“ I hope you took the time to count his freckles, all 34 of them, sprinkled across his nose. I hope you took the time to love the way the left side of his mouth rose up more than the right when he smiled. I hope you cherish that moment kid, that’ll be the hug you compare all others to.  
For a long time everyone believed it was suicide. They said he did it because his brother was beating him. But it was only gossip. Nobody had any proof. Then the coroner found something. An inconsistency. There were hand prints around his neck, dark black and purple, and the hyoid bone was broken. The first theory was that a stranger had broken in. Just a random act of violence. Everybody calmed down and the funeral was planned. Then the brother was brought in for questioning by the police.  
“I knew it. I so called it.“ If you knew, why didn’t you say anything?  
“Wow, it was so obvious…” Yeah, it was wasn’t it?  
Eventually the brother was arrested. He went kicking and screaming like a petulant child. He killed Pastel boy and tried to make it look like suicide. The funeral was packed. It was like the entire school and their families attended. Crying was heard long after the service. But the grieving didn’t end there. For weeks nobody wore anything but black. Now every year on the anniversary of his death everyone wears pastel. There are no announcements, no one talks about it. Nobody has to be reminded. Everyone misses Pastel Boy. But not as much as I do,I am his boyfriend after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read this story! This is another piece I wrote for a creative writing class and thought I'd share. Please comment and let me know if you'd like me to write more about Pastel Boy and his boyfriend. <3


End file.
